


Stuck in the Middle of Fear and Shame

by peachiinari



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachiinari/pseuds/peachiinari
Summary: He has to be careful.Gon was just a child. He grew impatient at having to stand around, anxiously swaying when having to stay put for longer than five minutes. He was an active kid, just like his father. He loved to explore the forest for hours on end, days even, and Mito no longer questioned his decision to stay out in the wilderness overnight.He should have run home the moment he noticed it. The Fae Ring. When he was younger, he had seen the ring appear in the forest glade once—only once—far off near the edge of the island completely uninhabited by humans. That time, he had rushed home, gasping for his breath while he ran, lips quivering in an addictive high.☾In which Gon Freecss lives in a world cowering in fear of Fae.In which Gon Freecss meets Killua Zoldyck, and falls in love.





	Stuck in the Middle of Fear and Shame

To save his own life, he’d have to take another. 

Not that he could do much about it. It was prone to happen eventually, with the weakening Rowan bark and shortage of iron on the island. Import taxes were costly, and iron was, unfortunately, a precious metal hard to come by. And despite the vast amount of lush, evergreen forest surrounding Whale Island, the tropical climate only served to make Rowan saplings ungrowable. 

But with their only defense finally starting to show signs of crumbling after so long a resilient force, murmuring words of worry filled the once calm island breeze. 

He has to be careful. 

Gon was just a child. He grew impatient at having to stand around, anxiously swaying when having to stay put for longer than five minutes. He was an active kid, just like his father. He loved to explore the forest for hours on end, days even, and Mito no longer questioned his decision to stay out in the wilderness overnight. 

He should have run home the moment he noticed it. The Fae Ring. When he was younger, he had seen the ring appear in the forest glade once—only once—far off near the edge of the island completely uninhabited by humans. That time, he had rushed home, gasping for his breath while he ran, lips quivering in an addictive high. 

The words, back then, had continued to repeat themselves in his mind.

  
  


《  _ Give not your name, for names hold power.  _ 》

  
  


Because Fae were tricksters, and giving your name meant giving yourself away to whatever they desired from you. 

Because giving your name meant giving yourself to the enemy. 

Because giving your name meant leaving the human realm. 

When he had told his aunt Mito, she had nearly broken down crying, grasping at Gon and wriggling her fingers deep into his spiked hair and nape, holding him tightly. She had cried uncontrollably then, unable to forge the thought of losing another Freecss to the Fae. 

Grandma Abe had only sat in her chair in silence, hadn’t spoken a word, and only watched with distant eyes and tears that threatened to spill from her aged eyes. 

But that was seven years ago, and Gon is no longer eight years old. He knows right from wrong, he knows how to keep himself safe from the Fae. And he’s a firm believer in his ability to defend himself. 

The forest glade is silent at night, he notes. It seems darker than the rest of the forest, and not in a physical way, because the full moon still shone its light through the trees, and fireflies danced through the darkness, lighting the path. 

No, the glade was dark in an unexplainable sense. Sound did not reach it, and no animals wandered through it. Gon had observed animals and plants all throughout his childhood on Whale Island, and yet the constant remained that no animal dared tread into this part of the glade. 

Which only meant one thing. 

While Gon walked, his hands gripped the straps to his bag tighter, eyebrows creasing in unfound excitement, a tension running through his body like a coil. He could barely keep himself from smiling, itching to rush his steps a little more—a little faster.

The grass folded under his boots, crunching loudly as he hurried his steps. Midnight fog swept the entire forest floor, covering the tiny rocks and flowers that usually littered the ground, masking dried leaves and twigs. He passed tree after tree, towering over him and offering little view of the starry night sky. 

There. It was there. There was a single path in the forest glade, with trees that seemed to bend to its will, not daring to touch it. The trees bent against their natural form to envelop the area and form a tunnel. Twigs and branches kept the tunnel tightly knit together, where even the moonlight could not reach its depths. 

Despite that, Gon grinned when he caught view of the strange light that appeared warped and fragmented from the tunnel, watching from a distance as the tunnel seemed to shift, though not really moving.

Gon knows that Ging, his absent father, left for the Fae Realm soon after he was born. He was a Fae Hunter after all, he protected the people of Whale Island—despite what some of his actions implied. And Gon wondered what was across the tunnel of light that made his father leave Mito, and Abe, and him. What made him leave the island he was protecting. 

The iron ore necklace around his neck reflected the light of the tunnel, and he knew iron could suffice if a Fae did come through. But he didn’t take the remaining rowan bark at the house because it meant leaving Mito and Abe vulnerable and unhidden. They needed the rowan wood more. He’d be just fine. 

And really, he hears it before he sees it. The sound of running. He prepares his stance, crouching low behind the shrubs of a tree and watches. Fae were dumber than he thought if they entered the Human Realm making this much noise. He prepares what little alder wood he has left to throw at the Fae in case it’s an Unseelie. 

Except Gon isn’t expecting for a figure to come rushing out of the tunnel, panting heavily and looking behind him. Black cloak rustling, form tumbling to the ground as soon as it reached the Human Realm. And suddenly Gon is up and running too, rushing to the figure. 

A human. It’s a human. Gon knows, because Fae don’t fake attacks like this. Fae don’t bother with thematics. They hunt. And if a human is emerging from the Fae Realm, that means they were captive and held there to help Fae cross into the Human Realm. 

“Here!” Gon beckons, his voice hushed yet still urging. The figure shrinks back the moment it notices him, using its hands to push back and legs to kick and add space between Gon and them. Gon moves to grab the human, seizing their wrist before hearing a yelp, “Come on! I’m a human too, we need to hurry back to my house. If the Fae leave the tunnel they’ll get us both.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, simply grabs the human and runs, rushing through the path he already knows, gripping the human by the wrist and dragging him along. They don’t speak to each other, and Gon feels as the stranger lets their tension relax. Gon allows his attention to shift momentarily: to turn his head and see what’s wrong. He realizes he’s staring into bright blue eyes filled with wonder. 

Right then and there, Gon’s steps nearly falter. 

Nearly. 

Not a single star that Gon has seen compares to the orphic eyes of the stranger.

The cloak which had covered the stranger's features had fallen in their running, revealing underneath it a boy with freshly fallen snow-colored hair, the type you saw in those fancy postcards from the city. His skin was pale and milky, unblemished and perfect in every sense. 

But his eyes were most expressive, holding so much raw emotion that Gon felt overwhelmed himself just for a second. 

The path to Gon’s house becomes clearer and clearer the closer they get, and the marks of rowan bark and alder wood surrounding the house became more apparent. As the house comes into view, on the hill clearing with a full view of the night sky, Gon points to the rowan bark near the windows and doors, and the alder wood which hangs from the front door.

“The rowan bark will protect our presence from Fae.” Gon explains, slowing down their running into a jog, his hand still tightly clasped around the strangers. “And the alder wood hanging in the front door won’t let Fae enter the house without being invited. So you have nothing to worry about, come on!”

Gon grabs for the strangers wrist again, leading them to the front door. The stranger pauses, and when he refuses to walk forward, Gon pauses and looks back at him. 

Oh. 

The wonderment in his eyes faded into fear. 

Gon didn’t like how sad the stranger looked, and gave him his best smile. 

“Don’t worry, Aunt Mito is nice, and she doesn’t mind if you’re staying. You can come in!” 

Only then does the stranger move, albeit hesitantly, and follows Gon’s gentle lead inside the house. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The house is warm. It’s warm and cozy and everything a house  _ should  _ be. That’s the first thing that crosses Killua’s mind. 

It’s nothing like in the Fae Realm. It used to be so dark, so cold. He was alone. But he’s just barely made it into the Human Realm, and already they’re so kind. Humans are kind. They’re nothing like the Unseelie Fae spoke of. Everyone was wrong about them—they were  _ good _ . 

Moments within stepping in, a young woman walks in, eyes wide as she stares at the boy and him, mouth agape. Killua instinctively goes to pull up the hood of his black cloak, suddenly embarrassed by his own presence. He’s aware of his tattered state, how he has grime and sweat on his skin, small scratches that litter his forearms and cheeks. 

Killua tunes out the conversation of the boy explaining to the woman his reason being there. He stands at the foot of the door, barely inside, and plays with a lock of his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

His attention is only grabbed when the boy is in front of her peripheral again, up in his space like he knows him, and is ushering him to follow him upstairs. 

Killua doesn’t miss the way the woman gives him a warm smile, and thinks for the first time, that this is what a house should be. 

“I’m sorry about scaring you earlier!” Is the first thing the boy says, opening the door to what Killua presumes is his bedroom. “I wasn’t expecting a human to come barreling out of the Fae Ring.”

Killua’s voice comes out raspier than intended. “Why were you even so close to that ring?” 

The boy looks up, surprised. “Oh! So you do speak, I was worried something had happened to you in the Fae Realm.”

If the boy notices the way Killua’s features darken, he doesn’t comment on it. The Fae Realm had done a lot to him. Instead, Killua offers a nonchalant shrug and looks at the boy, “My name is Killua.” 

“I’m Gon!”

They grin at each other widely. Before they can get any words past the introduction, the young woman appears again, this time at the door of Gon’s bedroom, holding a bundle of folded towels and soap. “I want both of you boys to take a good shower and get some rest, I’m guessing tonight has been a long night for the both of you.”

Gon whines about it being too early to shower, but gets up hurriedly when the woman starts counting down from ten. Killua is confused when Gon begins to tug at his shirt, urging him to remove it. When it action processes in his mind, his face goes red.

“I’ll take it off in the bathroom.”

Gon only looks at him curiously, doesn’t offer a response though, and leads him to the bathroom. As soon as the door shuts and Gon clicks the lock, he’s up and pestering Killua.

“Aunt Mito said she doesn’t mind you here, I don’t know if you heard that while you were at the front door—you looked kinda out of it.” Gon pauses to turn on the tap, “But I got scolded for going near the Fae Ring! Can you believe it?”

“Of course I can. You’re not supposed to be near that thing.”

“Killua!” He whines, and Killua laughs, pushing his shirt up to remove it and get into the bath. 

There’s a deep inhale of breath before Gon speaks again. “Oh… did they do that?”

For a moment, Killua had forgotten the number of scars that filled his back, the whippings he had endured with no proper after-treatment. They hadn’t hurt then, and they certainly didn’t hurt now, but with Gon’s sight resting on them, he only become self-conscious. 

“It’s nothing to worry about, it was a long time ago.” 

He doesn’t need to turn around to see the face Gon is making. He can feel his gaze, and though they barely know each other, Killua doesn’t think he deserves Gon’s sympathy. 

“Do you know how to use the bathtub?” 

Killua looks up from his fiddling, musters the best deadpan face he can give Gon, “Of course I know how to use a bathtub!”

“Alright! Then…” Gon takes a seat on the floor, shuffling through the sink cabinets, “You shower, and I’ll look for some stuff to treat your cuts.”

“Huh? You’re gonna sit in here with me?”

Gon looks up from his spot, stares at Killua as he opens the shower faucet and lets the water run, “Why not? You’re just gonna shower right? What’s the problem?”

Killua mumbles something that Gon doesn’t really hear, and Gon returns his attention to the sink cabinet, shuffling through the mess of stored creams, bottles, and packaged goods.

Killua is halfway through washing his hair when Gon yelps, some sound akin to an “aha!”, that has Killua turning around to see what the hell Gon is doing on the floor.

Neatly arranged on the bathroom floor is an assortment of creams and bandages. From gauze and bandages to topical creams for scratches, Gon has set them all out on the floor. Really, it can’t even be considered a neat arrangement, when the gauze is strewn about, and half of the bottles and creams are scattered about. Nevertheless, it’s its own odd form of neat, and Killua can’t help but smile when Gon grins in triumph. 

“Are you done yet, Killua?” 

The question makes Killua pause. He is, though something about stepping out of the shower with Gon sitting right there doesn’t sit well with him. “Yeah. But turn around, would ‘ya?”

Gon laughs, despite turning his body away from Killua anyway. “Why? Are you embarrassed or something?” 

“Of course I’m embarrassed! We just met, and you’ve practically seen me naked without a care in the world!” 

Gon hums, “It’s just you, I don’t see the problem.” 

“Duh-Don’t see the problem? Gee, you—you really are something. You can turn around now.”

The shirt Killua is wearing was previously Gon’s: old and worn with age yet still useable. It’s a white tank top, one of several similar pairs Gon keeps in his closet. He assumes Aunt Mito must have picked it out for Killua because of how many he has. The basketball shorts do seem a little big on him though, and so Gon makes a note to go out and buy him a more well-fitted pair later on. 

Gon pats the small plastic step in front of him. “Sit here, you can dry your hair with the blow-dryer while I patch you up!” 

There’s a device plugged into the wall. That must be the blow-dryer. “You want me to dry my hair with that thing?” 

“Yeah. The blow-dryer. Just turn it on while I put the cream on your scratches.”

Killua sits on the plastic step, grasping the blow-dryer in hands and fiddling with it anxiously. He doesn’t know how to use it.  _ Blow-dryers _ , as Gon called them, aren’t a thing in the Fae Realm. He’s never dried his hair. He didn’t need to. 

“Killua,” Gon pauses from unscrewing the cream cap, “Have you never used a blow-dryer?”

When Killua doesn’t offer any response, and simply hunches his shoulders down in embarrassment, Gon’s laughter fills the air and echoes in Killua’s head. “Blow-dryers aren’t a thing in the Fae Realm!” He defends, but it only serves to make Gon laugh harder, doubling over and holding his stomach. 

“Gon!”

“Suh-Sorry!” Gon reaches over, wrapping his hands around Killua’s waist to grab the blow dryer. 

_ Close _ , Killua thinks,  _ He’s too close _ . 

In his reflection in the mirror, Killua can see the way his cheeks redden, and how Gon stays oblivious, lifting the blow-dryer over Killua’s head and placing it on his own lap. “Killua, turn around. Let’s me towel dry your hair—it’s dripping.”

Hesitantly, Killua shifts, turning to face Gon. It’s quick, the only way to describe it, how Gon softly rubs at his hair with the towel, patting it dry before standing and brushing his fingers through KIllua’s hair, removing the knots gently with the hairbrush in his other hand. 

“You have to learn how to use the hairdryer, Killua. You can get sick if you leave your hair wet.”

Being in the Human Realm, Killua concludes, is weird. Because humans are fragile creatures. Killua never risked getting sick from wet hair in the Fae Realm. 

But… he wouldn’t change this for the world. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


That night, when Gon has patched Killua up and dried his hair slowly to avoid burning Killua’s sensitive scalp, Killua waits for Gon to shower in the same spot he had waited. He minds his own business, recounting his memories of the Fae Realm, and comparing them to his luck in the Human Realm. 

Still, as Gon leads him back to the bedroom, announcing to Mito that they’d freshened up and would be heading to bed, fear runs rampant in Killua’s heart. His chest constraints when he thinks about falling asleep in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar land. By the time Gon has set the futon for him, Killua’s palms are sweating and he only offers a gracious smile to Gon for his efforts. 

As he turns his back to Gon to lay on the futon, he doesn’t notice the sad expression on Gon’s face once the lights switch off. 

He only hopes the nightmares tonight won’t make the glamour disappear. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Killua awakens a little something like this: Gon is tugging at the sheets he’s completely wrapped in, and most warm in, and he mutters out an incoherent spell of words that only make Gon giggle as he tugs the sheets harder. 

“Killua,” Gon says, “You need to get up! Aunt Mito made breakfast for us. Grandma Abe and her are waiting for us!”

That makes Killua open his eyes, just a little. “Grandma Abe?” 

“Hm?” Gon pauses in his tugging. “Oh, you didn’t meet her last night—she was already in bed. She’s Mito’s grandma, so I just call her grandma, too.”

Killua hums and reluctantly removes the warm sheets he’s wrapped around in. 

“But don’t worry, Aunt Mito already told Grandma Abe about you, so she’s expecting you!”

He’s really only half paying attention to the ramble, opting to focus most of his attention on getting up at all.  _ Gods _ , how long did he sleep? There’s a dull ache in his legs, probably from all the running. A brisk trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and Gon and him are heading downstairs fairly quickly, rushing to make it to the table to spare their rumbling stomachs. 

Killua half expected the house to look different from last night: that the home-y feeling he got was just an illusion that would warp as soon as he stepped foot again in the room in the morning. Despite his initial thoughts, the house maintained its light atmosphere, if not even more so in the daylight, and Killua felt a sense of peace wash over him. 

Yeah, this was what a house was supposed to feel like. That opinion would probably never change. 

Gon is quick to take a seat at the table, signaling to Killua to sit next to him. There’s so much food set at the table, food he’s never seen, never had, never heard of. His stomach grumbles and mouth waters. If eating human food will condemn him to the Human Realm… well, he can’t really say that’s condemnation, now can he?

He picks up the fork ready to eat the food served but pauses as he watches Gon and his family clasp their hands together. They’re looking down, eyes closed, mumbling words of thanks. Uncertainly, Killua puts down his fork and knife quietly, clasping his hands together. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s never really  _ done  _ this before. 

_ Maybe _ , Killua thinks,  _ thank you for letting me find him _ . 

After they’ve begun eating, Gon springs up, half a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth. “Killua!” 

Killua startles, jumping in his seat at the sudden motion.

“Killua, I’m sorry, I didn’t explain what we were doing before eating breakfast!”

The boy can’t help but laugh, setting down his fork. “I know what praying is, Gon. I’ve never done it, but I know what it is.” 

“Oh. Well—”

“We give thanks for all we have,” Aunt Mito says, “and to give thanks that there hasn’t been a Fae attack on Whale Island for a long time.” 

It’s funny how quickly his world almost stops spinning.  _ That’s right... Because of Fae, humans suffered. _ Fae, whether Seelie or Unseelie, posed a threat. They were tricksters, and they knew of the intricacies of language required to ensnare humans. They knew no mercy—Unseelie more brutal in nature than Seelie. 

Killua was a trickster, just like the rest of them. 

It’s funny how, suddenly, he isn’t that hungry anymore. 

“But,” Mito continues, “We haven’t had an attack in a long time, so we have nothing to worry about. Especially you, Killua. You’re safe here.” She gives him a stern nod. 

“If both of you boys could do the dishes after breakfast, that would be great. I have to tend to the laundry and go down into town to buy thread.” 

“We can go into town for you, Aunt Mito!” Gon says, “I’d like to show Killua around town.”

“Alright. Hurry up and finish breakfast so you can return before lunch.” 

The dishes are another mess in and of themselves. Killua didn’t have to “do the dishes” in the Fae Realm, there were others for that. It didn’t help that the dishes were done with machinery he was unfamiliar with—the dishwasher, Gon had called it, proved more troublesome than helpful. 

“I don’t understand why we can’t just wash it by hand!”

“Because the dishwasher will wash it for us, and faster!” 

Their bickering grabs Grandma Abe’s attention, who walks into the room at a turtle's pace and laughs gingerly while observing the two boys. “You both should start heading to town, it’s nearly time for the boats to start unloading merchandise.”

Gon is the first to react, practically trampling over himself to grab his boots and shuffle out the door. He’s ushering Killua to hurry, handing him a pair of spare, beaten up shoes. 

“Ah, Gon!” Mito calls out from the window of the second floor, “Don’t forget to put on the iron necklace!” 

He gasps, reaching around his neck and feeling for the familiar weight, “Right! Killua, wait here, I’ll be right back!”

Killua is left alone to his thoughts, watching as Gon once again rushes inside and up the stairs to his room. If he strains his eyesight, he can make out Gon’s figure by the window, grabbing the necklace by his bedside. 

It’s warm today. 

Not humid, but the weather is nice, and a breeze caresses the air. Killua assumes it’s due to the island’s nature. There are so many birds in the sky, and the sky—it’s a bright blue hue with not a single cloud in sight. This is the Human Realm, and Killua smiles wide knowing he’s  _ made  _ it in one piece. 

“What are you smiling about, Killua?” 

Killua whips around to the sound of Gon’s voice. He’s walking over to him, hands behind his neck. There’s a frown on his face, and his tongue is poking out of his mouth in concentration. 

Killua snorts, “Turn around, I’ll clasp the necklace on your neck.” 

“Really? Thanks!” 

He’s so bright. 

Killua takes a step forward, grasping the cable chain and joining the clasp. The iron sits nicely against Gon’s tan skin, Killua thinks. He flushes at the thought.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid _ . 

_ Although _ , Killua pauses as he finally manages to hook the chain,  _ the iron doesn’t burn his skin _ . 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The better half of three months have passed rather uneventfully. Killua now wakes up much earlier than Gon and has taken the habit of preparing breakfast for the entire Freecss household if Aunt Mito isn’t awake. 

Killua has adjusted well. You wouldn’t know that he came fresh from the Fae Realm three months ago had you just met him. He prides himself on that fact. The townsmen and women have taken a liking to the pale boy, too. 

There’s also the whole thing with the townspeople questioning Gon and Killua’s relationship status, but well, the thought leaves an ache in Killua’s heart and his face flushed—so he rather not think about it. 

Recently, Gon and him have gotten close—not that they weren’t already close. Though, there’s not much a barrier left between them anymore. No filter, no hesitance. It’s great. Really, really great. The thought has Killua grinning as he prepares breakfast. 

Today, Gon awoke early at Mito’s request, who wants them to go into town to purchase fresh food from the market for dinner. Mito is planning a big dinner, though they both don’t really know why. She giggled and waved them off when they did ask, so there was no point in pestering her for an actual response. 

“This morning’s breakfast: fried eggs, toast with peanut butter spread and salted almond nuts, and orange slices.” The exaggeration in Killua’s voice makes Gon burst out laughing, who sits by the kitchen table, placing down the plates and forks. 

“And to drink, Chef Killua?” 

“A blended tropical smoothie of banana and strawberry, of course!” 

Gon lets out another laugh as Killua smiles to himself, black sleeves rolled up and cutting away at the orange slices. 

“Can I help, Killua?” Gon asks, suddenly up against Killua’s back, pressed against him. Killua swears if he hadn’t spent more years in the Fae Realm being cautionary he would’ve cut his finger off right then and there. 

“I-Idiot. Don’t you remember what happened last time you tried to help me?”

“Killua! It was once!”

“And once was enough!” 

Killua can’t see it, but he knows there’s a pout on Gon’s face. “You can help me set the food on the table. Look, everything is almost done.” He amends. 

“Okay…” 

He continues his cutting, slicing the oranges and placing them in a neat stack on the cutting board. The fried eggs sizzle in the pan, and he’s already peeled the bananas and removed the strawberry stems for the smoothie. Faintly, if he strained his hearing, he could hear Aunt Mito and Grandma Abe talking upstairs, so he hurries his cooking. 

By the time he turns around, sliding the fried eggs from the pan to the plate, and placing the peanut butter spread at the center of the table, it’s nearly the usual time for breakfast. Killua spins around, ready to ask Gon to help him fetch cups for the smoothies, only to find the spiky-haired boy staring at him. 

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” Killua asks. 

Gon flushes. “Wu-What? There’s nothing!” 

Killua pretends he doesn’t hear the stammer in his voice, or see the way his face reddens to the shade of the tropical smoothie. He looks away bashfully. 

Mito and Abe arrive just then, interrupting the moment and dissipating any tension in the air.  _ Thank the gods, _ Killua thinks. 

The breakfast is uneventful: hurried if anything. They all clasp their hands together in a silent prayer, offering thanks, and quickly get to eating. As usual, Aunt Mito and Grandma Abe praise Killua’s cooking and improvement, thanking him for the meal and for allowing Mito to sleep in a little longer. 

As usual, Killua only offers a nod and a bashful smile. 

They chatter about today’s plans, about errands to run and things to do around the house. Soon enough, Killua and Gon are up and placing their plates in the kitchen sink. If they make it to the town before ten in the morning, they’re guaranteed fresh products in abundance. 

“Killua, come on, let’s get dressed and go into town!”

Killua follows behind Gon, unaware of the smiles on Mito and Abe’s faces. 

The door to Gon’s bedroom creaks open, Gon shuffling around items to find his shirt and necklace. “We should probably buy you an iron necklace if there’s any in the market today.”

Killua looks over from his seat on Gon’s bed. “Nah, I don’t need one. I’ve spent enough time in the Fae Realm to know how to defend myself from Fae.” 

“But Killua—”

“It’s fine, Gon. Don’t worry.” Killua smiles, and then frowns, “C’mere.”

Gon hums, approaching Killua’s form, “What’s wrong?”

Killua adjusts Gon’s shirt, placing his hands on the boy’s sides. “The shirt seams were lopsided.” It’s the only explanation Killua offers to Gon, when he suddenly realizes their position, and how Gon stares at him, mouth agape. 

Killua flushes deeply. “W-Well, we better get going—Did you find the necklace?”

“Y-yeah! Here!” Gon thrusts the necklace into Killua’s grasp. The clasp accidentally nicks Killua’s skin, but he pays it no heed, and gently places the necklace over Gon’s neck, hooking the chain into its clasp and signaling he’s done. 

While Gon grabs his backpack and the money Mito left for him on the bedside table, Killua opens the door, holding it out for Gon. Sharing a grin, they both head out of the house, and it’s only then that Killua notices. 

The clasp hadn’t nicked his skin. It had burned him.

The glamour was fading. 

He was starting to run out of time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The run to the market was proven successful, if not for the fact that they’d gotten much more than they thought they would, then for the fact that they also bought Killua a new pair of basketball shorts and a turtleneck. 

By the time they return to the house, it’s past noon, and their arms are strained from lugging around a dozen bags of fresh produce. 

Aunt Mito eagerly accepts the fresh food, ushering them to place the bags on the kitchen counter and then shoo-ing them out of the kitchen. 

That night, they spend it together, laughing loudly as they enjoy a large assortment of food. Mito smiles brightly under the praise from both Killua and Gon, who have helped themselves to quite literally everything on the menu: from the grilled meat, to the rice and black beans, to the fruits and vegetables and salads placed in the center of the table. 

This isn’t the bright house it once was to Killua anymore. It was more than that now. 

It was home. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


After they’d finished dinner and given their thanks again to Aunt Mito, Killua and Gon had showered and headed to bed. With their stomachs full, there was the lulling pull of sleep that drifted into their conscious. But this sense of peace was only going to get smothered by the fear of falling asleep. 

Killua felt his palms begin to sweat once again at the thought of having to drift away. It was always the same nightmare, taunting him and forcing him to wake up crying. He always tried to stifle his crying, to avoid awakening Gon, but the beating of his heart and blood pumping through his ears made it hard to know if he was being loud. 

Though he doesn’t tell Gon, he’s begun to feel dizzy. Not because of the plague of nightmares haunting him, but in general. Being inside has made him dizzy, and the spells are only getting stronger against him. 

The iron had nipped his skin earlier today, but there was no telling what it’d do tomorrow, or in a weeks time. 

He’s running out of time. Out of time to spend with Gon. Out of time to stay in this house. In this  _ home _ . 

Despite that, once Gon bids Killua goodnight, unaware of his inner torment, Killua takes a deep breath and steadies his breathing, allowing himself to become submerged in the choking darkness. 

Tick. 

Tick.

Tick. 

Tick. 

A wretched gasp tears itself from Killua’s throat. His heart is pounding, and there are tears spilling from his eyes. He has his fists curled into the futon covers, and his blanket had been strewn about while he’d been kicking in his sleep.

They got him. They had grabbed him and forced him into the Fae Realm. Whipped him two thousand times. It was his punishment, after all. But he didn’t deserve it. 

No... No.

No.

_ No..._

He’s shaking, his lips quivering. He wants to wake up Gon, to have Gon tell him it’s okay. 

But he can’t. 

He can’t bother Gon like that—pester him about his problems. He didn’t need to know. It was fine. 

He was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

The clock read 2:27 a.m. He closes his eyes again. There are still four hours before he needs to get up to make breakfast. He can risk a little more. 

“Killua.” 

His eyes snap open, wide and shaking in fear. Maybe Gon had just mumbled his name in his sleep. 

“Killua…” Gon’s voice is there again, this time closer. “Come here, are you okay?” 

Killua can feel him. He’s so close; he instinctively shoots his hands up to cover his face, trying to mask the tears. Gon doesn’t need to see. 

When Gon gently sits on the floor next to him, softly running one hand through his hair, the other slowly moving to push Killua to face him, Killua can’t hold back the tears anymore. Even if they’re cried silently. 

“Killua…” 

He’s really glad the lights are off, or else his pale skin might be a very visible shade of red splotches, eyes shot and teary. Gon maneuvers him to face him, always so gentle and slow. Hesitantly, Killua allows Gon to move his hands from his face down to his sides. 

“You’ve been crying every night since you got here. Are you okay?” 

_ Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic _ . The words ring like a mantra in his head. Gon had known since the first day. He knew the entire time. He couldn’t hide it from him. 

He nods but doesn’t reply. He doesn’t trust his voice. His throat feels like sandpaper. 

“Killua, do you want to sleep with me? The bed is big enough for the both of us.”

Again, although much more delayed this time, Killua nods. It feels surreal. Gon is always helping him. Saving him. Does he really deserve such kindness? 

It’s a slow process: getting Killua to stand. With Gon’s help, he manages to stand on shaky legs, the boy hugging his waist and leading him to his bed. His heart is still beating frantically, blood pumping to the point he can hear it. He doesn’t think he can tell Gon if he asked. 

But the boy doesn’t ask. He lets Killua situate himself in bed, get comfortable before he joins. He’s usually so curious. 

“Hey, Killua,” Gon says quietly, a hushed whisper as he lays down next to him, “Do you want a hug? Aunt Mito used to let me hug her to sleep when I had nightmares.”

There’s no point in denying him. Tentatively, Killua shifts and turns his body towards Gon’s, wrapping his arms around the boy’s frame tightly. It doesn’t magically heal his pain, but it calms him. 

This is enough. 

He doesn’t quite catch what Gon’s last words are, but he’s drifting asleep faster than he ever has, face pressed directly into Gon’s neck. Peace. He’s at peace now. He can breathe, and the darkness doesn’t seem to be so smothering anymore. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s warm. 

That’s the first thing he notices. 

It’s warm, and he’s pressed up into someone, wrapped around them in a deep embrace. It’s a tangle of limbs. There’s a hand running gently through his hair, up and down and up and down—a repeated motion.

It’s peaceful. The sunlight is hitting the back of his head, reaching forth and grasping at his exposed arms from the tank top he’s wearing. The window curtains are open, and he can faintly hear the breeze outside, the soft chatter of Mito and Abe downstairs. 

It’s warm. 

And almost as quickly as it had come, it vanishes, because Killua feels the thread of dread tighten around his chest, his heart, his lungs. 

Gon.

Gon had seen him in his awful state of mind. Gon had offered to ease the pain, and it had worked. 

When Killua opens his eyes, he’s buried deep into Gon’s neck. Faintly, he can smell the lavender-scented soap he uses to shower. 

“Killua…” Gon mumbles, “Are you awake?”

His heart is beating too fast, he needs to calm down. This is fine. His face is totally flushed right now, isn’t it?

“What time is it?” Killua asks, doesn’t dare to remove his face from Gon’s neck. He can feel the way Gon’s neck twitches.

“It’s one in the afternoon, you slept a while.”

Now  _ that  _ has Killua sprinting up to his feet. “Idiot! Why didn’t you wake me up? I didn’t make breakfast!” 

Gon laughs, and Killua turns to take one good look at him, maybe smother him with a glare. Instead, he ends up kind of winded. 

Gon’s hair is tousled, eyes crinkled in crescent moons with a wide smile. He hasn’t moved from the bed, still sitting upright, shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“Aunt Mito was the one who insisted I didn’t wake you.” 

The comment makes him pause, but there’s no time to ponder over it. He’ll split his head open before trying to decipher the meaning behind some of the things Mito does. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go downstairs.” 

“Ah, Killua…” Gon calls out, he  _ still  _ hasn’t moved. “You kind of fell asleep on my neck, so I didn’t want to move and wake you. I can’t feel my body at all.” 

It should be concerning how quickly Killua’s face reddens, the way his heartbeat picks up to a speed that probably isn’t healthy at all. He clenches and unclenches his fists, his throat feels dry. “I-Idiot, why didn’t you move me? This is your own fault!” 

“Killua!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Gon, you haven’t gone out exploring in a while.” Grandma Abe says, there’s no malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity. 

“Well, yeah, if any Fae come looking for Killua, it would be dangerous being out in the forest.” 

Killua stops chewing his sandwich, staring at Gon incredulously. He feels the need to correct him, to explain that  _ he can defend himself just fine, thank you very much _ , but ultimately decides to keep quiet. Gon sounded rather serious, looking down at his plate with a frown. 

“You should consider taking Killua out to see the flower field, I overheard some men in the town saying the flowers were currently at their peak.” Mito chides, turning her attention to Killua, “Are there flower fields in the Fae Realm?”

Killua ponders for a second, looks up at the ceiling and thinks. “There are, but humans aren’t allowed to pass into them. Flowers hold a lot of meaning to Fae, and the Flower Nymphs don’t take kindly to those who pluck their children without some sort of payment.”

“Payment?”

“Yeah. Offering something of equal value to them is a fine payment. Maybe like some enchanted water, or food, anything works. To an extent.” 

“We should go to the flower field then! Come on!” Gon is quick to spring up from his seat, already grabbing Killua’s hand. 

“Not so fast,” interrupts Mito, smiling, “Here’s some food. I have a feeling you’ll both be staying there for a while.” 

Mito hands them a basket full of food: fruits, ham sandwiches, two bottles of water. There’s enough to last them the entire day. Killua shares her a grin, allowing Gon to pull him up and drag him to the door. 

Killua pretends that the iron necklace doesn’t sear him with pain the moment he attaches it to Gon’s neck. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The trek to the supposedly-blooming flower field on Whale Island is a long one. They spend nearly two hours just trying to  _ get  _ there. It’s a long distance from the house, almost towards the other end of the island. But, when Killua lays his eyes upon it, he loses his breath. 

“This shouldn’t even be possible.” He whispers, eyes wide as he stares at the vast field of flowers. 

There are blue violets and white lilies that completely overtake the field, but towards the edges near the forest, there’s daffodils and poppies and daisies and jasmines, just there, littering the ground. There are so many flowers, so many  _ meanings  _ behind them. There’s a twinkle in Killua’s eyes, the way he itches to rush forward and pluck flowers and give his thanks to the Flower Nymphs. 

“Killua…”

Killua turns his head, half expecting Gon to tug him towards a spot to sit, but he’s standing still next to him, gaze completely on him. 

“Do you miss the Fae Realm?”

The question doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, though it makes him give Gon a confused look. “Huh? What makes you think that? I’m happy to be out of that place.”

Gon springs up, enveloping his hands into both of Killua’s. “Really? Do you really mean that?” 

“Of course I do! What’s gotten into you?” Killua averts his eyesight, taking his hand away from Gon’s and running it against his nape in embarrassment. 

“I’m really glad I met you, Killua.” 

Killua is flushing red in seconds. Gon holds such a special place in his heart, a space that he’s made for himself right in the center. It holds such a tight grip on him that Killua is a little scared. He’s never felt like this before. 

“Really… what’s up with you today?” Killua mutters, but smiles under his breath, “We should do something with the flowers.”

“The flowers? Like what?”

He’s grinning wide. “Do you know how to make flower crowns? I’ll teach you.”

“Flower crowns? Really? You know how to make flower crowns?” There’s a childish excitement in the way Gon is shaking, excited to learn how to make simple little flower crowns. Of course he knows how to make flower crowns. 

“Yeah, let’s split up, go collect some flowers and I’ll teach you.” 

They head separate directions, Gon rushing over to the edges of the forest, while Killua opts to stay near the center. The two main flowers he wanted encompass the entirety of the flower field anyway. 

White lilacs. Purity and youthful innocence. 

Blue Violets. Faith, affection, intuition, and love.

Those. Those fit him well. He sees Gon at the edge of the forest, holding a bunch of different colored flowers. He smiles. For a brief moment, he wonders if Gon knows the meaning behind the flowers he’s picking, or whether he’s just picking at random. He wonders if Gon is picking flowers for his crown, or to give to him. It’s rather preposterous to assume Gon would even think of him like that. 

Flowers hold such special meaning. 

As Killua takes flowers and adds them to his growing pile, he gives his thanks. While there may not be any Flower Nymphs in the Human Realm, the flowers were still alive, and they would whisper to him if he decided to lend them an ear. 

The white of the lilacs blends nicely with the blue violets, he thinks to himself, grabbing his assorted pile and heading back to where Gon and he originally split up. When Gon returns, it’s holding a stack of color, practically. 

He’s holding daffodils, jasmines, and a couple of blue violets he must have picked up on the way back. There’s a bright grin on his face; he’s shining. It only serves as a reminder that his time is running out every passing second. The glamour wasn’t meant to hold out for so long. And he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to stay by Gon’s side after he finds out that he’s Fae. 

_Gon_, Killua thinks, _you are light._ _Sometimes you shine so brightly I must look away. But even so, is it still okay if I stay at your side?_

“Killua, look! These flowers are so pretty!”

Killua smiles. 

The process is a slow one. After sitting on the ground near the basket of food Mito packed, Killua is explaining how to build a flower crown. He explains slowly, really, except that steam seems to pour out of Gon’s ears the longer he explains the process. 

He sighs. “Okay, look.”

He takes one white lily stem, putting it perpendicular to the blue violet stem, wrapping the white lily’s stem around the blue violet’s, and then letting it run parallel to the blue violet. He adds another blue violet, and repeats the process to make a white and blue pattern. 

“See?” He spares a glance at Gon, who’s staring at him in amazement, suddenly grabbing his collected flowers and getting to work. 

He’s making that face, where he puffs out his cheeks and furrows his eyebrows in concentration. His tongue is poking out, eyes hardened as he completes the process once, gasping once he manages to figure out the way Killua did it. 

“I did it!” 

Killua nods and sets himself to work. He’s careful not to break any stems accidentally, wrapping each flower with measured precision. As he’s working, he spares some glances at Gon, who’s working diligently in front of him, sitting cross-legged and slowly working on the crown. He’s only managed to tie four together. 

He finishes much faster than Gon, taking a final white lily to tie the crown in the back. Holding the crown out in front of him, he admires his own handiwork, proud of the result. As he thought, the flowers do blend nicely together, and the assortment smells nice. 

Gon is still working by the time he finishes. “Do you need help?”

“No! It’s fine. I want to do this myself.” 

The sun hasn’t set yet, but it’s getting there. The sky is starting to fade from a bright cyan blue to orange and pink, dyeing the field in more colors than it was previously. The forest seems to get darker, but it’s peaceful, and at the edge of the forest, he can see a rabbit hop its way to a tree. 

The Human Realm is so much more peaceful. There’s a beauty to it that makes the Fae Realm pale in comparison. Sure, humans don’t have magic, or mythical creatures, or enchanted items, but they make do with what they have. And honestly? It’s not that bad at all. 

He’s happy where he is, he’s happy being with Gon especially, and he doesn’t want that to change. 

Absentmindedly, he fiddles his hand around the basket of food, taking out an apple to eat while he waits for Gon to finish. 

“Killua, how do I tie the crown together?”

A laugh bubbles its way out of Killua’s throat, before he’s up and showing Gon the steps, guiding his hands around the final flower stem. It’s a gorgeous assortment of flowers, whether Gon knew the meaning behind the flowers or not. 

The yellow daffodils work nicely with the white jasmines, and they compliment the blue violets just as well. There’s a splash of color in the vivid assortment. It works out, in the end. 

“Here,” Killua says, reaching out for his crown, “I made this one for you.” 

“Really?!” Gon marvels the blue and white crown, before placing it with the utmost care on his head. “How does it look?”

_ Beautiful _ , Killua wants to say, but he refrains. “It suits you.” 

“Oh, here!” Gon hands Killua his flower crown. “I guess we thought of doing the same thing. I made this one for you, too!” 

Instantly, Killua is flushing. Halfly due to it being a gift from Gon, but the other half… the meaning of the flowers. They flash in his head. 

“S-Seriously? Idiot, do you even know what these flowers symbolize?” 

Gon looks worried for a second, frowning and thinking hard. “No, is it bad?”

Daffodils. New beginnings, good luck. 

White Jasmines. Modesty, love, elegance, and grace. 

Blue violets. Faith, trust, affection, intuition, and love.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain the blue violets without giving himself away, too. He looks away, hands instinctively coming up to rest at his nape, trying to relax. 

“Half of these flowers have to do with love and new beginnings.” Which wasn’t a lie, per se, but he’s leaving out the crucial point that blue violets and white jasmines do share similar symbolizations. He can’t risk Gon knowing what his flowers meant. 

It’s funny how quickly Gon is flushing too, averting his gaze in favor of looking out at the field of flowers. 

“But… thank you.” Killua says, barely above a whisper, but he knows Gon heard it when he whips his attention back to Killua, watching with wide eyes as the white-haired boy places the flower crown on his head. 

One foot in front of the other, Gon steps forward until he’s practically mere inches from Killua’s face, raising his hand to gently tuck a lock of Killua’s hair behind his ear. No words are exchanged, breaths held, Killua’s piercing blue gaze stares straight into Gon’s.

Killua’s the first one to break, looking away as he feels the heat travel up his spine. 

“The sun is setting, do you want to start heading back?”

“Do you want to stay overnight? We can make Aunt Mito and Grandma Abe flower crowns too!” 

Killua nods, happy to not address what just occurred between them. 

As Killua is stepping away from Gon to collect flowers for Mito, he doesn’t miss the flowers’ whispers: “ _ He loves you the way you love him _ .”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Midnight approaches quickly, their time wasted between eating the food Mito packed for them, as well as arguing over what flowers best represented what they wanted to give Mito and Abe. Their bickering has died down since then, as they sit staring up at the starry night in silence. 

Gon breaks the silence soon enough. “Hey Killua, what is the Fae Realm like?”

Killua looks over, unable to place the current face Gon is making, “The Fae Realm? Well, it’s all nature. It’s a lot like Whale Island actually. But darker. At least, where I resided, it was always dark. The forests barely let sunshine through, and there was always this white fog covering the ground. There were never any creatures who’d go near where I lived.”

“Then why…” Killua looks over at the sudden sound of vulnerability in Gon’s voice, “Why did Ging leave?” 

There wasn’t a single response Killua could give. Not that he could anyway—for Fae cannot lie. He opts to stay silent, to let Gon think it out. He hopes that doesn’t put him in a bad place. Silence was never a nice response to receive. 

“He left a bit after I was born. Into the Fae Realm. He still hasn’t come back. Aunt Mito tells me stories about him, he sounds so cool. So then…” Gon chokes back a sob, curling his hands into his eyes, “So then why did he leave? 

For the first time since the years Killua has been alive, he cries not for himself, but for another person. He cries silently, hoping that some of Gon’s pain will redirect to him instead.

“I know I’m probably not as amazing as he is—”

“Gon—”

“He’s a Fae Hunter, and I’m just me—”

“ _ Gon! _ ” Killua desperately interrupts him, sitting up and facing him, “You can’t measure your worth next to someone who was never there.”

Those simple words are enough to calm him. Killua can’t offer Gon any encouragement, it hurts—but he can’t. Fae cannot lie. He doesn’t know Ging. Anything he’d say would be a lie. 

But the words are enough. 

They fall into another comfortable silence. There was a new moon today, practically invisible to the human eye, which meant there were roughly another 30 days before a full moon. Before the glamour completely ran out. 

It’s a while before Gon finally speaks again. “I wish... I wish I knew what other people really thought of me, don’t you?”

Killua looks up at the stars. “I guess so.” 

“Like, if I met Ging, I think I’d like to know what he thought about me, without a filter.”

Killua hums in agreement. 

_ Gon _ , he humors himself in his thoughts, _ I’m so in love with you it’s killing me _ .

Once again, the flowers which sit on his head seem to whisper out to him; they continue to call his name, quietly. 

“ _ He loves you. _ ”

“ _ His heart feels the same way. _ ”

“ _ Trust yourself, and trust your heart. _ ” 

Time seems to slow when Gon stands, extending his hand out for Killua to grasp. Killua takes it, albeit confused, and stands to his feet. The breeze makes the flowers wave, and the stars seem brighter than usual, shining down on them both. 

“Killua, will you dance with me?”

The question has an immediate effect on Killua. His heartbeat quickens, his face flushes red. His hands twitch with the need to pull the boy in front of him into his arms, and yet at the same time, shove him away. 

The flowers seem to continue to repeat their words.

“ _ Accept his offer _ .”

“ _ He speaks truth. _ ”

“ _ Be a fool to deny him. _ ” 

Killua nods. His throat feels dry. His eyes sting with the unknown need to cry. He doesn’t know what to say. Reaching out, he takes Gon’s outstretched hand, and comes closer. There are so many conflicting thoughts running through his head. This is everything he ever wanted. Gon, in his arms, within his reach. 

_ But he doesn’t know.  _

_ He doesn’t know you’re Fae _ , the voice whispers. 

  
  
  


** _Liar_ ** . 

_ Liar _ ** _._ ** _ _

  
  
  
  


** _ Liar. _ **

_ Liar _ ** _._ **

  
  


** _ Liar. _ **

He pushes the voice to the back of his head. He’ll tell him, eventually. Gon will know. Soon. He’ll have to find out eventually. 

Instead, he focuses on Gon, who stands in front of him, who places his hand on the small of his back, and stares into his eyes. Gently, Killua places his hand on Gon’s right shoulder, allowing Gon to wrap his other hand into his. It was the first time he’d ever done this. 

Their chests pressed together, they danced slowly in the night, surrounded by stars and flowers and the gentle breeze. The flowers seemed to sing softly—a gentle melody. Every other sound faded. There were no crickets chirping, no leaves rustling.

Just them. Their breaths mingling, Gon would stare into Killua’s eyes and smile. It has such a galvanic effect on Killua, sending a chill down his spine. All Killua could do was avert his gaze, too embarrassed by the intensity behind his stare. So many unspoken feelings. So many emotions. 

There was a barrier that fell between them, at that moment. All that was left was their bodies, swaying slowly together, before Gon paused, bringing their dancing to a stop. Afraid he’d done something wrong, Killua looks up at him. 

“Killua.” 

Never has his name been spoken so softly, with so much tenderness. With so much love. It makes a shudder run down his spine. 

Gently, Gon lets go of Killua’s hand, placing both hands around his waist. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Killua drapes his arms around Gon’s neck, bringing their bodies closer. 

“Can I kiss you?” Gon’s words burned into his skin, the question ingrained in his mind. 

“Yeah.” Is the only thing Killua can muster before his lips are meeting Gon’s. 

It’s a sweet feeling. Knowing his feelings are reciprocated. There’s an odd sensation in Killua’s chest, where his heart feels full and there’s a tickling in his stomach. He feels dizzy, but not in a bad way. 

Gon pulls back, resting his forehead against Killua’s. Both their eyes are closed, and they take in the sounds of their breaths. It’s serenity that surrounds them, a euphoric feeling that can’t be explained. 

“In my next life,” Gon swallows before continuing, shyly meeting Killua’s eyes, “I want to be me, and meet you again.” 

“Y-Yeah…” Killua feels short of breath, shakily inhaling before continuing, “Me too…” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When they arrive back at Mito’s house, it’s nearly dawn, with their hands intertwined. They’re pressed close together, laughing and joking, Killua holding the food basket, while Gon holds onto the flower crowns they made for both Mito and Abe. 

That night, Gon offers Killua to sleep with him again, and they curl up into each other's embrace. Killua feels as Gon runs his hand through his hair, his head buried into Killua’s, with Killua’s face against his chest. Their legs are tangled together, and Killua doesn’t even remember closing his eyes when he drifts into a peaceful slumber with Gon by his side. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Killua is sick. 

It’s not the common cold, either. That was ruled out fairly quickly. Ever since he returned from the flower field with Gon, he’s been unable to move. He can barely make it a few steps to the bathroom. 

It’s the glamour. It’s fading, and quickly. 

There’s not much left. 

His skin is paler than usual, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He isn’t eating. Gon has been a nervous wreck since he started feeling unwell, sleeping with him every chance he got, barely leaving his side unless necessary. 

He hasn’t told Gon it’s because of the Rowan wood, or the Alder wood, or even the iron they keep around the house. It’s all so nauseating. It makes him dizzy, and he can barely breathe without feeling choked out of breath. 

It’s been a week since he’s fallen ill. 

Gon has taken to pressing his forehead against Killua’s to feel his temperature. He’s become a frenzied mess because of him, bringing food upstairs and practically begging him to eat. He stays by his side if he can help it, only leaving when he needs to shower or get food. 

He’s so kind. 

“Killua,” Gon says softly, voice barely above a whisper, “How do you feel?”

He  _ feels  _ like death. But he forces his eyes to open, red and sunken and lacking the bright color Gon once fell in love with, and he forces himself to speak.

“Okay…” he chokes out, voice broken. 

It’s the way that Gon’s features contort. The way his brows furrow pitifully, mouth twitching to suppress the grinding of his teeth. The way his eyes water, tears practically ready to spill. It’s the way Gon looks at him that makes Killua want to sob out and tell him it’s okay. That he’ll be okay, soon. 

Killua just wants to reassure Gon, the way Gon reassured him the first day he ran out of the Fae Ring. 

Silently, Mito watches from the door, taking in what’s happening before her. She can’t help but let a tear escape her, too, when she watches the way Gon grasps Killua’s frail hand tightly, bringing it to his forehead in a silent prayer. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next couple of days, Killua’s condition begins to improve. He doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t question it. 

Gon is beyond relieved when Killua can get more than a word out, and nearly cries when Killua offers him a grin that isn’t laced tightly with pain. He’s getting better, so Gon can rest more himself. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Killua manages to awaken before Gon for once. He’s still recovering, and he still doesn’t fully understand the reason behind his recovery, but he’s working the thoughts out. That, however, doesn’t mean right now, when Gon is so peacefully asleep next to him, curled up into his side and holding his hand tightly. 

There’s a smile that manages to grace his lips, no matter how drained he still feels. He’s glad that Gon can properly rest without worrying about his well-being now. 

For a second, he considers kissing Gon. Just for a second. He hovers, hesitantly, over the boy, unaware of whether it was okay or not to kiss him. 

He decides not to.

It’d be better to wait for him to wake up, wouldn’t it?

Unconsciously, Gon shifts, his body moving to face upward, still holding onto Killua’s hand. The smile on his face only widens into a grin, his hold on Gon’s hand tightening. 

Killua lets his attention go elsewhere, admiring the view of the forest, and the pathway that leads to the front of the house. If he strains his neck, he can make out Mito working outside, hanging up the laundry on the clothing lines.

There’s a shift beside him, and when he turns, Gon’s lips are on his own, before Gon is pulling back and giggling. “I was waiting for you to kiss me, but you didn’t!”

Killua reddens, mouth agape, looking down in embarrassment, “I-Idiot.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next time he awakens, he’s alone. Mito is sitting by the door, a chair pulled from the kitchen table propped against the door. Gon is nowhere to be seen, but if Mito is sitting here like this, she had meant to speak with him, no matter how long it took for him to awaken. 

“You’re awake,” Mito says, putting down the book she was reading onto her lap. 

Killua nods, feeling stronger than he has in the past weeks. 

“I need an explanation, Killua,” her tone holds no malice, but still intimidating, nonetheless, “I’ve sent Gon on a long list of errands so he wouldn't have to overhear this.” 

That string of dread around Killua returns, tightening once again around his throat, his lungs, his heart. He doesn’t need her to say it to already know. 

“You’re blessed with Yugen.” He says, staring at her with unwavering eyes.

She nods. “Yes. And as all Fae know, Yugen, in the few humans who possess it, can see past any Fae glamour, no matter how powerful.”

“Then what was the point of letting me stay?” 

“Gon.” The mention of his name is enough to send his heart on overdrive, “It was simply Gon. He thought he had found a human who had escaped from Fae. By him thinking you’re human, you’ve given him hope that his father can come back from the Fae Realm in one piece. You gave him hope, no matter how false of a pretence it was.” 

The tears that well in his eyes threaten to spill. Ging was a sensitive topic for Gon, he knew this, and the night at the flower field only worked to reinforce it. 

“When you walked in through the door that night, I was sure you were going to kill us all. After all, the marks on your skin classify you as an Unseelie. But you didn’t. You stepped back, and looked embarrassed of your own presence. And Gon is too perceptive for his age, and if he brought you here, then I had to trust he saw good in you.”

“Is that why you mentioned the Fae attack during breakfast prayer to me? To guilt me?” 

“Not completely. We pray for no attacks nearly every breakfast, but the guilt that appeared on your features only confirmed that you felt remorse.”

Killua takes a steady breath, willing his heart to stop beating so quickly. He needs to calm down.  _ Relax, relax, relax _ . 

“And when you came back with Gon and the flower crowns, with flowers so intricately made, knowing the meaning of those flowers, I knew everything was going to be okay.” Her voice shakes, it’s unstable and cracking and he knows that there are sobs lodged in her throat. 

“And my sickness? I’m sure you’re not foolish enough to do what I think you did.”

A pitiful nod. 

Killua grinds his teeth.

This was bad. Very, very bad. The house was unprotected. There was no Rowan bark, no Alder wood, no iron. They were completely vulnerable. Gon. Gon could get hurt, with no protection. 

“You started to improve after I removed the Rowan wood from Gon’s window. And you only got better the more I removed. So, I did the only thing I could do to save both Gon and you. I removed everything.”

“You need to put it all back.” He says, sitting up from his spot on the bed.

“I can’t.”

“You  _ can _ . And I will help you even if it kills me.”

“You don’t understand, Killua. Your physical state was destroying Gon. It was killing him. He didn’t know what to do. He has already lost his father, please don’t make him sit through losing you, too.”

Despite the tears that well in his eyes, the way his face flushes in embarrassment and shame, he stands on shaky legs, pushing himself up with everything he’s got. 

“It’s  _ you  _ who doesn’t understand. I’ve seen Fae near the edge of the forest recently. Possibly Unseelie. The wood and iron is the only thing protecting all of you, you need to put it back up.”

“If we put it up, you will die.”

“So be it. But I cannot risk any of you getting hurt,  _ especially  _ Gon.” 

“Killua,” she says, the tension dissipating, “You are a good Fae. Despite being the most dangerous type of Fae, you are kind.”

“I—”

“You never used tricky language on any of us. You never asked for Gon’s name. You gave yours instead, and let him reply with his. You know how much it means to Fae to just give out their name.” 

“I could never manipulate him like that.” Is the only response he gives, looking down at the floor. 

The glamour is almost gone. 

Alluka’s spell, no matter how powerful because of Nanika, was fading. He remembers his original promise to her. To find somewhere safe in the Human Realm, so he can take her away from the court. 

“Killua…”

That voice. The voice of the boy he loves. Killua whips his head up, staring with wide eyes at Mito, and then at Gon. Mito looks just as surprised as Killua, unable to form any words. 

What to say?  _ What to say? _ There’s no fixing this. 

Killua feels a tingling in his hands. The glamour. The glamour is fading. It’s done. It’s over.

  
  


_ He’s going to find out _ . 

_ He already knows _ .

_ He’s going to see me! _

_ Run _ .

  
  


_ Run _ . 

** _ Run!_ **

“Killua, you’re Fae?” 

The glamour breaks with a crack only audible to him. 

Gon is holding a floral arrangement of flowers: pink and red camellia flowers with baby’s breath flowers. Faithfulness and longevity. Everlasting love, pureness, and innocence. The tears are spilling before Killua can stop them. He’s covering his eyes with his hands.

There, Killua lays exposed. His skin has become paler, with a slight purple undertone. Ink-black markings are etched into his skin, covering the expanse of his face and neck, his arms marked with symbols neither Mito nor Gon can read. They can’t see the symbols that appear under his left rib, glowing with unused magic just waiting to burst. 

“Killua—”

“Gon, I’m so sorry!” He sobs out, pushing himself back, further from Gon’s body. “I should have told you sooner. So much sooner. As soon as you found me. I’m so sorry.”

“Killua,  _ look at me _ .” Gon reaches out, hands hovering just inches from Killua’s skin, “If it's you, I don’t mind being betrayed.” 

Killua’s features contort into a sob, brows furrowing deeply, mouth pressed into a thin line as tears continue to fall freely. His shoulders shake, hunched over to cover his face with his palms. There’s loud sobs that emit from his throat, a wail of crying that he just can’t hold back anymore. It’s done.

Faintly, it does register to him that his claws are showing. Sharp and long, the ink-black markings reaching all the way to his mid-forearms, covering his otherwise perfect skin. He didn’t want Gon to see  _ this _ . See  _ him  _ without the glamour. 

The flowers Gon had brought are scattered on the floor, and Gon’s reaching out to touch him, grasp him and shake him and tell him everything is okay. But Killua shrinks away from Gon’s touch, stumbling back on quivering legs. 

Hurt flashes across Gon’s face. 

“Killua, please—”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

There’s a voice in the back of Killua’s head. It repeats over and over and over and over. His betrayal, his lying, his facade. It repeats negativity until Killua has no more to give. Until he’s broken. Until his eyes have become a hazy, glazed over blue. 

It’s faster than Gon and Mito can react. The way Killua’s body seems to shift from its place. But one moment it's in the bedroom, and the next, Gon can make out Killua’s silhouette by the edge of the forest, facing away from Mito’s house. 

“Killua!” Gon shouts, but the sound can’t reach him, and the last thing he sees is the boy he loves run into the forest, towards the direction of the Fae Ring. 

His lips tremble, eyes wide as he stares out the window. Killua is gone. 

“Gon…”

“He didn’t leave by his own will.” Gon is throwing things into his backpack. “Killua was being manipulated. His eyes. His eyes looked dead.” 

“Gon, he’s probably already back at the Fae Realm,” Mito tries to reason, “You know how powerful Fae are, especially Unseelie. They can cross the Fae Ring at any time. You’re human, you have to wait for a full moon.” 

Gon skims over the calendar on his desk. “There won’t be a full moon for five days. Killua can’t wait that long. I have to go now and try.” 

He doesn’t wait for Mito’s response. When he spares her a glance, she looks absolutely distraught. Her eyes shine with sadness, lips pressed thin and eyebrows furrowed. She nods. 

“Bring him home.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The Fae Realm hasn’t changed. 

On the long trip back to his court, he passes whispering trees which retell his sorrow and spread it like seeds. The ground is smothered in a white mist, barely showing the forest spirits that walk aimlessly through, and the cold breeze makes a shiver run down his spine. 

He hates it here. 

Arriving to his court is easy. It’s getting in unnoticed that’s hard. His presence as an Unseelie Fae is a strong one, he knows that. It’s hard to miss even for the lesser Fae and spirits. They cower in fear of him. 

“Killu, you’re back.”

Killua doesn’t need to look up to know it’s his older brother, perched atop the court gate with a blank expression on his face. 

“Mom missed you, she wouldn’t stop weeping. It’s been three years since you ran through the Fae Ring, Killu.” 

He doesn’t try to fight back. The trees whisper their condolences, and the spirits pause in their wake to stare as the Fae boy walks into the court, leaving the Human Realm for this abomination of a court. Any happiness that Killua had stays in the Human Realm. 

“Killu!” 

His mother is rushing over, arms outstretched and dress ruffling, hugging the boy tightly around her grasp, “Killu, it’s been so long. I was worried you’d stay in the Human Realm and not come back to us!” 

Killua doesn’t retort that he  _ did  _ want to stay in the Human Realm. That he  _ did  _ want to live the rest of his days with Gon. But the feeling of betrayal grows inside him, and he bites back the want to cry out—gripping his hands into fists by his sides. 

He lets them drag him along. He knows where he’s going. They’re going to stick him into solitary confinement so he can think about his actions. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay there, or how long they’ll decide to whip him for his actions, so he closes his eyes and thinks of the one boy who can make everything better. 

Memories of Gon rifle through his mind, and he lets the smallest of smiles escape him. He already misses him—misses his smile and his presence and his touches. He misses Mito, and Abe, no matter how much they fretted over his well-being despite not knowing him for long. 

He’s in front of the Unseelie court room soon enough, staring straight into the eyes of his father who sits hunched over, figure dark and gazing straight at him with repressed rage. He’s not scared of his father, never has been: they share a common respect for each other. 

“Leave us.” The voice of his father booms, echoing throughout the court. Killua feels the grip of his mother slip reluctantly, and hears their footsteps retreating out of the room. 

“Son, come here.” 

Killua takes a step forward, eyes hard. He knows after this, his mother will punish him for being gone for so long. 

“What is your reason for being back so early? I thought you admired humans so much so to leave your court for them.” 

“I do.”

“Do? Still? Then why do you stand before me, when it’s only been three months in the Human Realm?”

“I betrayed the humans.” 

“Really?” His father leans in, arms propping up his chin, “Did they scream in fear when the glamour faded?” 

“No. They were hurt. It’s my fault.” 

His father laughs—outright laughs in his face—and relaxes his posture, leaning back. “And what is this fault you speak of, Killua? Surely, you now know better than any other Fae that humans aren’t all that pleasing.”

Wrong.

He’s wrong. 

Humans were everything; they were admirable, and strong, and fought for what they wanted. 

The image of Gon pops into his head, of Gon crying, begging to know why his father had left him. 

_ And they’re so fragile, _ he thinks to himself.

“Regardless, I’m glad you're back in your court in one piece—where you belong. I’m sure your mother wants to speak with you.” 

Killua nods. He can feel his mother’s presence just outside the court door, seeping in through the cracks of the enchanted wooden entry, through the cracks of the stone walls. She did a poor job at hiding her smothering tendencies. 

He doesn’t tell his father the one piece he’s missing is his heart. 

One more glance over at his father, Killua hesitates, before he’s turning and stepping outside, to where his mother stands with one of his younger siblings. She fans herself, eyes covered behind a patch of bandages. It seems the damage he did to her to escape has faded after so long. 

“Killu, I’m so proud of you. You came back! You had me so worried. Never leave me again. Come, come. Kalluto, stay here.” 

She’s over-eager to place him in solitary confinement. To let Milluki have his way with him, with spells and charged magic and any other item the older brother learns to work with. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s already screwed up the most important thing. 

The coldness seeps in through his fingers, his mouth, and his wounded heart. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Gon is ready.

Or, well, he feels ready. 

There’s a moment’s hesitance in his step, where he falters just a little in stepping out of Aunt Mito’s house. Because the thoughts run through his head: Killua left because he wanted to. But he hadn’t. Because his eyes were glazed over in regret. He could feel it. And his scent had shifted to something sourer. 

The thoughts conflict over and over again in his head. Killua is going to be fine, and he’s going to come back to him. 

Because they were…

He doesn’t even know  _ what  _ they were. 

Dating? Boyfriends? Do those terms even apply to Fae? 

He’s overthinking—steam will pour out of his ears soon enough if he keeps his mind on it. 

It took nearly the remainder of the day to reach the Fae Ring, tucked away at the end of the island where no inhabitants stood. Even now, no animal dared tread into the glade, stopping within a fair distance from entering it. 

Gon doesn’t hesitate, not anymore, hands gripping his backpack, eyebrows furrowed in determination. He will bring back Killua. 

There, the Fae Ring stands untouched. It warps a beautiful color, glittering with an essence that seems to fade into and out of reality. In the silence of the glade, Gon can make out the sound of a whirling particle, whooshing past his ears in a call for his attention. If he strains his hearing, he could make out the sound of whispers, thousands of them, calling out his name from the Fae Ring.

The night breeze tickles his face—there’s no full moon yet. Not for another four days. Killua can’t wait that long. He needs to go get him now. 

He steps into the surrounding area of the ring, where it stood against thousands of tiny, blooming flowers. Flowers that shouldn’t be there. The memories of the flower field flash in his head. He grinds his teeth, and steps on the flowers. 

They wilt and brown under the sole of his feet. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Killua has been chained and beat with just about everything. The open wounds oozing blood don’t hurt anymore. His arms are chained above his head, suspended in the air by the metal cuffs around his wrist. His brother is nowhere near done with him, but he’s gone to take a break, sweating profusely at the strain of the activity. 

His head lifts up from his gaze on the ground when he hears it. The faint cracking at the entrance of the Fae Ring. There’s a force pushing itself inside—into the realm. Killua’s ears twitch at the sound. 

It’s been six days chained here. Killua has counted. He runs over the math. The numbers complete themselves in his head: three months, three years; fifteen days, six months; one day, twenty-two days.

Six hours. 

It’s only been six hours in the Human Realm. 

He smells it before he hears it. 

The smell of blood, long into the distance, near the Fae Ring. The smell of  _ him _ . 

Suddenly, Killua’s eyes snap open, eyes slits, magic sparking around him. The wounds that had barely closed are reopening, snapping at the strain of his muscles. The fresher wounds bleed more blood. The skin is tearing and he doesn’t care. 

He keeps struggling against the chains. The chains are infused with iron. He can’t break them. He can’t reach him. The tears are falling from his eyes.

“Gon!” He screams. A sob tears past his throat. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There’s something nudging his leg. When Gon slowly opens his eyes, he’s met with two figures towering over him, peering at him with wide eyes. His blood runs cold, struggling to get up to his feet to fight back.

“Relax!” the taller one yelps, creating distance between the smaller figure and Gon.

Gon stands on unsteady feet, well aware of the blood that seeps from his wounds.

“Who are you?” Gon asks, wiping the palm of his hands against his shorts. 

The two strangers shake their heads. “Names hold too much power. We can’t give you our names.”

Gon frowns, “Okay… well, I’m Gon.”

The taller figure struggles to hold back a laugh, pressing his lips together in a poor effort to cover his laugh, he nudges the smaller figure. “He’s smart.”

With a nod, the smaller figure smiles, “I’m Kurapika, and this is Leorio.”

Gon is in a hurry though, and he needs answers, “Thank you for trusting me. But, I’m looking for someone, so I need to get going.” 

The smaller one, Kurapika, lifts an eyebrow, “And who is so important to such a human like you?” 

“He’s an Unseelie Fae.”

Gon doesn’t mention Killua’s name.

Leorio shrinks back. “An Unseelie? Why do you have business with an Unseelie? They’re ruthless killers, Gon.” 

He doesn’t have time to argue, he walks past time. “He’s someone important to me. I need to reassure him and bring him back.”

For a second, he thinks the Fae won’t follow him. But he can hear their footsteps behind him, ever so quiet. “You don’t need to follow me. Thank you for your help, but I need to find him.”

“Let me help,” Kurapika says, “I’m a Salamander Fae. I feed off of passion and revenge. The stronger the passion, the stronger my magic to aid you.” 

“Thank you, but I don’t need—”

“If there’s an Unseelie you’re willing to rip through the Fae Ring for, then we’re curious enough to see the both of you reunite.” Leorio interrupts, “I’m a Seelie Fae. It’s spring in the Human Realm, right? My magic is stronger now. We’ll help you get to the Unseelie; for a price.”

“Leorio!” The Salamander Fae speaks up, obviously embarrassed, “Don’t—”

“I’m really sorry, but I need to get going. Killua can’t wait much longer.” 

Hands grab at Gon’s, holding him back from his walking pace.

“Did you say Killua? The Unseelie Fae Killua Zoldyck?” Leorio seems so much taller now, looming over Gon with dark eyes.

Gon pulls his hand back with force, staring up at Leorio. “Yes, do you know where I can find him?” 

“He returned to the Unseelie Court almost a week ago. He passed by here, it’s hard to miss that guy’s presence.” Leorio relaxes his looming stature. 

“A week ago? That can’t be right. He left around six hours ago.”

“Time works differently in the Fae Realm. Every hour in the Human Realm is a day in the Fae Realm.” Kurapika signals to continue walking. “He’s been here for the past week and hasn’t left the court since then. Follow me.” 

Internally, Gon’s heart beats faster. So many things could be wrong. If he returned and hasn’t been seen, he could be hurt. Or maybe the other Unseelie Fae did something to him.

Kurapika looks over his shoulder at Gon, “He’s fine. The Unseelie Court wouldn’t harm their most promising prodigy.” 

When Gon gives Kurapika a questioning stare, he laughs. “You’re bloodlust spiked up. I’m a Salamander Fae, I can sense changes in passion and revenge. You were ready to avenge him.” He grows a little quiet, “He must mean a lot to you.”

Gon nods, eyes hard with determination. “He does.” 

Leorio grins, picking up his pace. “Then let’s get going to the Unseelie Court. It’s not far away.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Truthfully, the walk to the Unseelie Court wasn’t a long one. But Gon notices the way Leorio and Kurapika grow more uncomfortable the closer they get to the court. 

“Are Unseelie Fae bad?” He asks. 

“Well, Unseelie Fae—”

“We’re here.” Kurapika interrupts. 

The Unseelie Court is different from what he had expected. There’s a looming gate at the entrance, with the walls so tall you can’t even see in had you climbed the surrounding pine and oak trees at the forest’s edge. 

Despite that, the gates creak open, the hinges squeaking in an effort to allow Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio inside. Gon doesn’t hesitate for a second this time, long having made up his mind of bringing Killua back. 

Their steps reverberate around the court, with the sound of crunching leaves and snapped twigs announcing their presence to a lone girl who sat at the court’s entrance. Both Leorio and Kurapika stop in their tracks, acknowledging the girl before them and bowing their heads. 

“How did the Unseelie Court—”

“A tutelary deity?” 

Gon doesn’t hear a single word of it. He continues walking forward, unfazed. 

“Gon!” Leorio hisses out, but Gon is too far to grab. 

The deity turns her head, staring straight at Gon, who doesn’t waver from his stance. He offers her no bow, or any signal of acknowledgment. 

“I’m afraid this is as far as you can go.” The deity spoke, her voice firm, turning to stand.

The deity was taller than Gon, not by much, but her golden staff stood tall next to her, nearly twice her height, whirling with powerful magic. Her hair was tied into thick brunches, skin a smooth, dark complexion. 

“I am Canary, a tutelary deity here to protect the Unseelie Court.” She uses the golden staff to create a barrier of magic between them. “This is as far as you will travel.”

The silence is ear-shattering. Not a single person moves, Fae nor Human. No sounds travel from the outside, although the Unseelie Court gate shuts with a loud creak. Gon isn’t turning back now. He can feel Killua’s presence. 

“Where’s Killua?” He asks, taking a step further, “I’m here for Killua.” 

“I am not inclined to answer the questions of trespassers.” 

Gon grinds his teeth, walking closer to the barrier. Killua’s name repeats itself like a mantra in his head. He needs to get to Killua. Killua’s presence grows stronger the longer he stands there. He knows Killua can sense him. 

“If you take one step into the barrier,” Canary speaks suddenly, “It will smash your body into pieces against the grass.”

He gets pulled back by Leorio and Kurapika, who have regained their composure in front of the deity. 

“Gon, the barrier will destroy you; watch.” Leorio tosses a rock, which goes skidding into the barrier’s area. The moment it passes the green wall of magic, the force of the barrier comes down and turns the rock into dust. 

Gon feels his insides twist uncomfortably, tightening his hands into fists in frustration. 

Next to him, Kurapika stands with his eyes closed, with a magic whirling around him. There’s a flurry of red, spinning and becoming more opaque to the eye. There’s a flame that sprouts from his feet. 

“Gon, use my magic as an aid. The stronger your desire to save Killua, the more magic I can lend you.” 

_ I’ll reach Killua _ , Gon says to himself,  _ I’ll bring him back. He’s coming back _ . 

Kurapika’s magic only glows brighter, impossibly so. The flames lick in red hues, but they’re quickly turning blue. 

He’s going to reach Killua. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The Zoldyck’s, for once, have lost control. 

And they have no idea how to fix it.

They stand in shock, watching in muted silence as Killua pulls against the chains holding him up like a feral animal. 

His skin has developed a stronger purple undertone, the black moon print on his forehead glowing. The black spells which envelop the skin of his forearms spread further along—reaching his elbows. His eyes are an ugly black, teeth bared and sharp, he’s screaming piercing wails. 

“Gon!” There’s a magic which seems to dampen the room, choking it in an immeasurable darkness, “Don’t  _ touch  _ him!” 

“Killu—” His mother tries to reach out, but she’s pulled back by his father, who looks down on Killua’s form.

“Something is wrong with him.” 

Killua’s magic has always been kept stunted and unused. They’ve never taught him how to use it, or how to spend the accumulating magic. The runes on his skin are proof of that. But now, Killua has so much magic to give—to use. And it’s close to unleashing all at once. 

“Gon! Run away,  _ Gon _ !” He’s choking out sobs. The tugging on the chains gets weaker, there’s blue blood dripping from the chains which held him. The metal has left his skin raw, breaking into the skin and sending searing pains when the iron mixed into the metal touches it. 

“Canary, please don’t hurt him.” He whispers brokenly. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Canary can hear him. And his pleas. 

She’s a Tutelary Deity. She’s supposed to guard and protect the Zoldyck’s—the Unseelie Court. 

But she casts her head down. Killua is kind to her. Always has been. He holds a place in her heart worth protecting more than the Zoldyck’s themselves. She can sense the growing despair of the rest of the family, all in close proximity to each other. 

Killua’s presence is strong. 

It doesn’t seem normal. It’s not his usual presence. 

She shifts her attention to the boy meters from her, who stands weakly on his feet, clutching his right shoulder. The Salamander Fae’s magic is too hard on him. It continues to reject him, and it’s a miracle he’s still alive. 

He’s deeply battered, skin red with wounds and scratches, clothes smeared green and brown from the dirt and grass. 

He’s still fighting for him. 

With a single motion, Canary is bringing down the barrier. The blue wall of magic fizzles out, coming down with a quiet whisper. She needs to reach the Zoldyck’s, whose presence only worsen. Killua, especially. She needs to be able to excuse her actions and excuse the allowance of the trespasser's lives. 

Her figure dissipates into the court mist, fading into nothing. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Gon is hurting.

Both physically and emotionally.

Kurapika’s magic kept rejecting him, to their surprise. It’s not something they expected to happen. Every time he tried to channel Kurapika’s magic, it was an anguishing blow to his body. He was scared he wouldn’t make it to Killua—make it past Canary. But now, Canary was gone, and he could feel Killua’s presence darken the entire court. 

He doesn’t hesitate.

There is no more hesitating. Not for Killua. 

Gon takes step after step forward, clutching his injured shoulder, straight to where he feels Killua’s presence. Behind him, Kurapika and Leorio follow in silence, unsure of what to say. Gon knows Kurapika feels guilty. But there’s no time for that. Later. He can say everything was alright later. When Killua was in his arms. 

His eyes are hardened, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Leorio.” Gon calls out to the Fae behind him, “Tell me about Unseelie Fae.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Canary appears, Killua calms considerably. 

Gon is no longer in danger if she’s here. 

He can feel his presence, he can smell the blood and the worry. Anxiety claws at him internally, his claws pointed and sharp, ears flexed down and lips pressed thinly together to suppress grinding his teeth. So many thoughts whirl around him. 

Some of which he knows isn’t his own. 

“Illumi.” He croaks out, lifting his head up, “Remove the spell.” 

He feels the room stiffen. Illumi tilts his head, confused. “What spell, Killu?”

“The spell that you think is protecting me. Remove it.” 

“I don’t know—”

“Illumi,” Killua’s grandfather speaks up from behind, “Just do it.” 

There’s a rise of protest from Killua’s mother and Milluki, but they're drowned out by the quick chant Illumi gives, removing the hexing spell from Killua’s skin. 

“Killua!” He hears him. His voice. Killua’s eyes widen as he stretches his neck, trying to look past the figures in front of him, to the door. 

“Gon!” 

The door slams open. And there stands Gon.

Gon, who is all that is light. Gon, whose skin is littered with red marks of scratches, huffing to catch his breath. Gon, whose eyes shine so brightly the moment he catches sight of Killua there, within his grasp. Gon, who broke through the Fae Ring for him. 

Gon, who furrows his eyebrows the moment he sees Killua chained and suspended above air. 

“Who’s this?” Illumi asks, eyes unwavering from their gaze on Gon.

“I’m here for Killua!” Not even seconds pass, and Gon has gone from the door to being in front of Killua. 

Milluki whistles. “He’s fast.” 

Gon keeps his stance in front of Killua, sheltering him from them, just inches away from physically touching him. Killua’s heart yearns for his embrace. His eyebrows furrow, trying to suppress the urge to cry. 

“Killu, surely you didn’t think this human was going to save you, did you?” It’s Illumi who taunts him first, taking a step forward.

“A human? Those are always so easy to break.” Milluki adds. 

“I'm not here to be tested, I'm just here to get my friend.” 

“And he dares to speak!” Milluki laughs. He turns to make a joke, to ask for a favor to break the boy to his father, but Silva’s presence is towering and oozing bloodlust. Silva’s arms are crossed, stance tall and an aura that makes the temperature in the room drop. 

“You, a simple half-Fae, dare enter my court?” 

“A half-Fae?” 

Gon looks just as confused but doesn’t waver. He outstretches an arm to cover Killua further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but release Killua!” 

“I should kill you for even stepping foot into my court.” 

“No!” Killua screams, “Don’t touch him, please.” 

“Killu, what have I taught you about humans? They’re pointless. You’re only joy should be killing.” Illumi takes another step. Close, close, close. He’s getting too close to Gon. Killua begins to tug at the chains again. 

Killua tries to formulate the words, to push them past his lips, the truth. He needs to tell the truth. “I don’t matter to—” He chokes on his words.

The room pauses. 

It’s silent. 

“I’m nobody to—” 

He chokes. He tries again.

“He doesn’t lov—” The coughing grows louder until he’s gasping for breath. 

He’s trying, but the words are lodged in his throat. He can’t form the words. No intricate language, no poetry, no incantation is going to push out those words. 

Because Fae cannot tell lies. 

And then the tears are falling with abandon. 

Killua’s lips quiver, his head hung low as he sobs loudly. His hands are fisted, gripping at nothing. He can hear Gon shift, the way his hand comes to gently cradle Killua’s cheek, to bring it up to meet his eyes. 

“It’s okay.” 

His eyes shine with so much love. Killua’s mouth is agape as he stares with the tears still streaming. 

“Unseelie Fae only see humans as pets.” Killua’s mother interrupts, “We don’t care about humans. We don’t have the capacity to care.” 

She should be choking on her lies. 

Because Fae cannot tell lies.

But Gon knows she’s using the language to tell white lies. 

“You’re wrong.” Gon says, “While it’s true that most Unseelie Fae see humans as pets, that doesn’t apply to all Unseelie Fae. And you’re right,  _ you  _ don’t care about humans,  _ you  _ don’t have the capacity to care. But,” 

Gon pauses. He’s gripping his hands at his sides. 

“Killua isn’t most Fae. Unseelie Fae can be fond of humans.” 

Kikyo lunges forward, ready to attack Gon—to make him pay his debt, for taking her son’s heart. But Silva’s voice ushers a command.

“Kikyo, stop.” 

She can’t move. “Silva, you can’t seriously—” 

“Go. Take my son.” 

Gon doesn’t question it. He turns quickly, giving the Zoldyck’s his back, and he’s unclasping the cuffs from Killua’s wrists, gently holding the boy in his arms. His eyes darken when he notices the raw skin, the blue blood. 

“Promise,” he says while undoing the cuffs on Killua’s ankles, “Promise none of you will come for Killua in the human realm. Or send anyone to force him here. Promise you won’t force him back unless he wants to.” 

He’s met with silence. 

“We will not promise to a Half Fae such—”

There’s a surge of energy that emits from Gon, untapped magic which threatens to spill, when he turns his head. 

The iron cuffs snap in his hands. “Promise.” 

There’s no discussion that goes on, no counter. Because if Unseelie’s are powerful, an Unseelie crossed with a human is only moreso. They repeat the promise. 

“Three times. Repeat it three times so you can’t break it.” 

Gon grabs Killua’s hands, not making eye contact with the boy. The aura surrounding the room is thick, a series of choking tendrils. Hesitantly, they all repeat the promise. They’ve been bested by a Half Fae, and that’s probably the biggest blow to their ego. 

When Killua and Gon walk out of the room, far from earshot, Silva presses his hand against his face and laughs. “He’ll come back. An Unseelie Fae always comes back to his court.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Killua and Gon reach the outside of the court, near the edge of the gate. Gon still hasn’t spoken a word to him, and Killua feels his breath stutter at the possibility that Gon is mad. Mad at him. Mad at him being Fae. Mad at  _ something _ . 

There are two figures by the gate, waiting. Killua tenses, but Gon coaxes him to continue walking. 

“Gon, you’re out!” Leorio shouts, stepping forward to collect Gon in his arms. Killua squints. “I have the healing spell ready for you, to heal your shoulder.”

“Shoulder?!” Killua looks over at Gon, who offers an apologetic smile.

“Kurapika’s magic kept rejecting me while we were fighting Canary, it caused a little bit of damage.” 

“Little is an understatement…” The blonde speaks, “Gon—”

“Don’t worry, Kurapika, it’s fine. We didn’t know.”

“It probably rejected you because you’re half-Fae, Gon,” Killua says, staring at the boy. 

“I didn’t know I was Half Fae, how come the iron and rowan wood doesn’t affect me?”

“Probably because you still have human essence in you.”

An incantation is spoken quickly by Leorio, and the pain from Gon’s shoulder becomes a ghost of what it once was. “Woah! That’s so cool, thank you Leorio!”

Leorio nods, “Kurapika and I have to get going. We’re still looking for the court which took his court’s lives.” 

“We’ll run into each other again, I’m sure.” Kurapika offers a smile. 

Kurapika and Leorio exit the court, their figures slowly fading into the mist of the forest. Gon and Killua haven’t spoken a word since they left his solitary confinement. The silence is stifling, it smothers and overwhelms Killua, and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s awkward now. 

“Gon—”

“Killua—”

They laugh. Killua rubs the nape of his neck, flustered. 

“You go first, Killua!”

Killua smiles. There’s a lot he wants to say. “Do you remember the flower crown I gave you?” Gon nods. “The flowers represented youthful innocence, and love.” 

Gon’s entire face reddens, flushing a beautiful red color that has Killua reaching out and grasping his cheeks and pressing his lips against his forehead. 

“Thank you for finding me worthy of your love.” 

Gon can’t possibly get more flustered, staring at Killua, before leaping into his embrace. 

“Killua!” 

He feels the wet tears on his neck before he sees them.

“I was so worried, Killua! You had stepped away from me at Aunt Mito’s house, and then you just disappeared looking all gloomy, and I was so worried. Killua, I was so worried I wouldn’t see you again!” 

Killua feels the tears well up, close to spilling as he grips Gon in his embrace. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Gon. I was scared. I was scared you’d hate me for not telling you about being Fae.”

“I told you it was okay, Killua.” Gon sobbed, holding him tighter.

“That didn’t make it okay!” Killua leads Gon to the edge of the court, to lean against the gate.

“I need to explain.” He takes a breath to steady his heart. “Alluka, my younger sister, is very powerful. She’s probably the most powerful of the Zoldyck court. But she’s also the most dangerous, according to my family.” 

He points to the tower kept away from the rest of the court. “They keep her locked in there. She’s the one who set up my glamour to last for so long. Without her, the glamour wouldn’t have lasted longer than a month. I promised I’d come back to get her once I found a safe place for her.” 

“But you found me, instead.” Gon adds. 

Killua nods, “I found you, and stayed with you.” He leaves out the tidbit that he fell in love with him the moment they met. 

“Then what are you going to do about Alluka?”

“I can’t leave her here, I don’t intend to come back.” Killua doesn’t want to have to leave Gon, but his little sister has suffered enough. She’s waited long enough.

“Let’s take her, then!”   
  


He whips his head up, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“Killua, I’m glad to have met you. I don’t want you to part ways with me.” 

Killua flushes in embarrassment. “Gon, how can you just say stuff like that, you’re so embarrassing.”

At that moment, Canary appears, leading a small girl to Killua and Gon. Her hair is long and black, a simple dress adorning her body. Alluka has the same pointed ears as Killua, but her hands and face lack the black markings. Canary’s steps are careful, staying slow enough for the girl to keep up. 

Alluka is small and frail, and she smiles wide when she sees him, “Big brother!” 

“Alluka!” Killua eyes light up.

“I believe Alluka wanted to see you, Killua?” 

Alluka nods, taking longer strides to reach Killua and Gon. She hugs Killua, tilting her to stare at Gon.

Killua grasps Gon’s hand, squeezing it in comfort. “Alluka, this is Gon.”

She pouts, staring up at Gon, “Brother, you didn’t tell me you had an intended in the years you’ve been away.” 

“An intended?” Gon asks, looking over at Killua.

Killua sputters, eyes wide in shock as he tries to recover. “We’re not intended yet, Alluka.” 

Her pout fades into a laugh, reaching out to hug Gon. 

“The Zoldyck’s haven’t noticed I’ve taken Alluka. You must hurry back to the Human Realm.”

They nod. “Thank you, Canary.” Killua’s voice is soft, full of appreciation. 

Canary smiles, and steps back to bow. “Please take care, Killua.” 

For once, the air in the court doesn’t feel so restrictive, and Killua feels like he can breathe with ease. He grins, knowing he’s made it, and he’s on his way home. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Mito sees three figures approach from the forest edge, holding hands and laughing loudly, she nearly sobs in relief. Her heart releases its death grip on itself, and she rushes down the stairs, ignoring the fact that she nearly knocked over her favorite vase. 

Abe is sitting at the table, looking out the window, waiting for Gon to return. She hadn’t moved since last night, after Gon had left to bring Killua back. 

She’s at the door within seconds, unlocking it and pushing it open, stepping outside into the warmth of the sun. 

“Gon! Killua!” 

They wave back at her. Gon is a little battered, and Killua certainly looks more haggard than he was before he left, but they’re back. They’re okay. And that’s enough for her. 

Killua and Gon are holding hands, and there’s a younger girl by Killua’s side, clutching onto his arm. They’re within arms reach, stopping in front of the door and grinning. 

Mito’s gaze softens when she takes a look at the girl, who’s shy and averting her gaze, using Killua’s sleeve to hide her face. The pointed ears, the claws—she’s Fae. And there’s no glamour spell currently on to hide that fact.

She breathes a sigh of relief, and smiles back, eyes crinkling into crescents, “Welcome home, you three.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading "Stuck in the Middle of Fear and Shame"! This is my first Killugon fic, and fic in general in a while. It's also the first fic I've written more than 10k words for, so I really hope you guys enjoyed the lengthy read. This whole thing took a week or two to write, but I'm very pleased with the results. 
> 
> Hopefully, you all find it as enjoyable to read as I found it to write. I'm not completely happy with how I ended it, but it will suffice. I'm excited to hear what you all have to say about this, so please leave comments about it if possible! (´,,•ω•,,)♡ 
> 
> This fic was beta-read by the lovely @aIarner on twitter, bless you bby, I love you. She really had to put up with my dumbass HAHA. Also @latinofreecss on twitter, my lovely proclaimed wife, who also had to sit through my screenshots of written scenes for opinions, you're the best and deserve the world. 
> 
> If you're interested in what Killua looks like, I have a quick sketch of him here: https://twitter.com/peachiinari/status/1165648101002174466?s=20  
And @aIarner on twitter also drew the scene in the flower field: https://twitter.com/aIarner/status/1164672373494296576?s=20
> 
> A few things aren't addressed in the fic, like Killua's age, but if you're curious enough, then he's 184 years old (in Fae Years), which makes him roughly 15 in human years. Don't quote me on the math for this fic, because while I did run some calculation to make sure my logic was sound, I have no idea if it holds up HJHJDFJFDJHSDFj. Also, if you're wondering why Gon is half-Fae, it's because Ging fucked a fae, and that's why his dumbass disappeared into the fae realm LOL. 
> 
> There's also some stuff about Fae I didn't get to address, so I may add more to this au in the form of a series, but for now, it's done!
> 
> Overall, I truly hope you all enjoyed the fic!!! Come yell at me on my twitter, @peachiinari. I may or may not have a couple of other Killugon au's planned HAHA.


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